


Just a Normal Tuesday Night

by Merrinpippy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Drug Use, OCs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 09:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4558860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merrinpippy/pseuds/Merrinpippy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not Stiles’ words that break through to her, nor the oddness of his action, but rather the tired and slightly miserable way that he spoke, and only a few seconds after does it occur to Allison why.</p><p>In which Allison and Stiles share a night or two kidnapped in a cell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Normal Tuesday Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written for teen wolf bingo with the prompt 'Allison x Stiles' + "What time is it?"

“What time is it?” Allison groans, stretching out and knocking into Stiles, who’d arranged himself into a sitting position next to her. Her neck aches a little but she’s still in the hazy bubble of sleep and doesn’t open her eyes, instead reaching out for Stiles’ hand.

Stiles turns his head, if the sound of his head moving against the stone wall tells her correctly, and Allison still doesn’t open her eyes. “It’s half past twelve. Probably a.m.”

It’s not Stiles’ words that break through to her, nor the oddness of his action, but rather the tired and slightly miserable way that he spoke, and only a few seconds after does it occur to Allison why. She opens her eyes and bolts straight up as her memories return to her.

“Oh,” is all she says, and Stiles nods his agreement next to her. He doesn’t look like he’s slept a wink, and Allison marvels that she has. Stiles seems to see this on her face because he’s giving her a bitter smile and not meeting her eyes.

“They kinda drugged us. I guess they didn’t want to put up with our bitching anymore.”

But that doesn’t make sense, because if they drugged Stiles, he shouldn’t have those dark circles under his eyes. “But why didn’t you sleep as much?”

“I got my head hit on the bars of the cell when they dragged us in here. Plus I’ve been around so many weird chemicals and werewolf crap recently that I bet I’m just used to it now. And that includes the whole, weak humans vs not-so-weak angry werewolves kidnapping us because they think we’re worth jack shit to Derek goddamn Hale.” Stiles punctuates the rant with a fist to the wall behind him, which he immediately regrets going by the pained squawk he makes and the delicate wringing of his hand. Although, they both know that they are in fact worth jack shit to Derek goddamn Hale, as much as either of them complain about his I-hate-everyone exterior.

The sleep completely gone from her system, Allison stands from the small bed they were graced with. However, their little cell isn’t much bigger than their school closet and it immediately makes Allison restless, her hand twitching for the bow she’d left at home because who brings a bow to your boyfriend’s house? Not Allison, that’s for sure.

But it’s not Stiles’ fault they got taken.

No, that’s down to the asshole werewolves passing through Beacon Hills who doubted Derek’s judgement on keeping humans in his pack and decided to do something about it.

Except that was a really bad move because the werewolves are clearly omegas and newly turned ones at that, if their worried conversation about the full moon while Allison and Stiles were awkwardly tied up in the back of their car is anything to go by. Added to the fierce protectiveness for his pack Derek always exhibits, even to the humans (Stiles more than Allison but she suspects it’s because she’s an Argent), the omegas are screwed.

It doesn’t make stewing in a low-maintenance cell any more exciting.

“We could play I-spy,” Stiles suggests, and Allison slumps back onto the bed. It speaks volumes about their twisted lives that this is practically just a normal Tuesday night for them. Or whatever day it is now, even.

“Can you spy a calendar?” Allison rests her head on Stiles’ shoulder, and his hand finds her knee in an oddly comforting gesture while he shifts to get comfortable, kicking a rather large rock on the floor in the process. Talk about shifty accommodation.

“No, but I can spy my dead phone, whose last words were, ‘Stiles, tell Allison it’s Wednesday and also incidentally the night of the full moon.’”

“Typical,” Allison rolls her eyes. She quickly checks her pockets for her own phone, but unfortunately it’s nowhere to be found. Hopefully one of the pack came across it looking for them so she can get it back later.

“Also I’m pretty sure that’s not how I-spy works.” Stiles’ smirk doesn’t last for long, though, because Allison quickly reaches up and pushes his head away, resulting with the both of them laughing as Stiles badly attempts to stay on the bed while Allison is valiantly fighting him off.

“Fine. I spy with my hunter’s eye,” Allison ignores Stiles’ snort, “something beginning with… S S C.”

Stiles ponders for a little before Allison can practically see the lightbulb above his head. “Small, sucky cell?”

“I was going for small, stupid cell but it’s really the same thing.” Stiles snickers and it makes Allison smile, despite their circumstances.

“Your turn Stiles.”

“I’m thinking,” Stiles says. They sit in silence for a bit before Stiles comes up with one. “I spy with my extremely observant eye, something beginning with B D.”

Allison guesses for about a minute before coming up with ‘brown door’ because even the room beyond their cell is so blank and barren that there’s not really much to choose from.

“I spy with my hunter’s eye, something beginning with… Scott?”

“I’m beginning to question your understanding of the basics of I-spy,” Stiles says, but Allison shushes him.

“Stiles, listen.”

There’s something muffled coming from outside the door and possibly upstairs that sounds like shouting, and if Allison were a werewolf, she’d be able to tell for definite whether it’s Scott or not, but as it is she’s content with Stiles fist-pumping and laughing smugly, saying something about how Scott’s going to kick some omega werewolf ass.

Allison takes a moment to lament on the fact that they’re being rescued instead of doing the rescuing, like they’re some damsels in distress… but there’s always next time.

Then there’s multiple somethings, and definitely a fight going on. There’s crashing getting quickly closer to them and it’s only seconds before the brown door bursts open and Allison is clutching at Stiles, backing as far away from the snarling, out of control omega as she can. The omega has a key, though, and enough presence of mind to unlock the cell door to get inside. Stiles makes a concerned noise next to her, and Allison is _really_ missing her bow right now.

As the omega lunges for them, Stiles and Allison push of in different directions, buying them a few seconds, but while Allison can get out of the cell, Stiles isn’t so lucky, and oh god he’s being pushed up against the wall and Allison can’t leave him-

She hesitates, but all she can think to do is hit the omega as hard as she can. The omega faces her, all hair and fangs dangerously close to her face, and snarls. Allison jumps back and almost loses her footing against the bed. The omega returns to Stiles. He raises a clawed hand.

“Alli- Allison,” Stiles is gasping, panicked. “The rock, Allison,” but is cut off by the omega growling in Stiles’ face too. Stiles starts to ramble about bad breath and his desire not to die, alternatively, and Allison frantically looks around until she finds the rock Stiles had kicked earlier.

She picks it up- it’s heavy, good- and closes her eyes, before swinging it as hard as she can on the omega’s head. He releases Stiles and Allison grabs him, already running out of the cell.

Suddenly, Stiles pulls her out of the entrance and she falls against him, just in time for a massive blur to tear through the room and pounce on the omega. Allison hides her face in Stiles’ shoulder so as to not look at the mess, but she can still hear the ripping and growling. No matter how many times things like this happen, it’s still difficult to watch Scott McCall rip into another living being, no matter how life-threatening said being is.

Still, she’s darkly glad the omega is being dealt with painfully.

When Scott steps back, Allison realises that all the sounds have stopped. She turns around just as Derek enters the room, and it’s cramped in here but Allison is so glad to see them both, sighing in relief and letting her head fall back onto Stiles’ shoulder.

Scott’s all over them immediately, checking them for wounds and seeing if they’re okay, frowning at Stiles who claims to be fine but is actually bleeding from a cut on the chest. Allison starts to panic but Scott puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“It’s only a shallow cut. He’ll be okay.”

“Told you so!” comes a petulant Stiles, who is ignored.

It’s at this point that Derek steps closer to them, and Scott reluctantly gives him space. Allison notes that, like Scott, he has blood that clearly isn’t his on his hands, and is that a bit on his mouth?

Derek sniffs them and scowls. “You smell like that filth,” he almost growls, with a sharp hand motion towards the mangled body in the cell. Allison tries not to think about the mangled body part. “Especially you,” he says to Stiles.

“Well, you know, having my life threatened by a werewolf and all that,” Stiles says airily.

“Good thing you had your knight in shining armour to save you,” Allison drawls, pointing to herself.

Derek rolls his eyes but Allison doesn’t miss the smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Stiles doesn’t even try to deny that Allison saved his ass. She pulls him closer to her, and he doesn’t object to that, either.

Scott and Derek lead them out of the room, up a flight of stairs and then through what Allison can see now is a house, and an abandoned one at that. However, even Allison can hear the sirens from here and so Derek and Scott leave them so they can escape the scene.

“If your dad’s out there, do you want him to see us being couple-y, or whatever?” Stiles asks as they’re about to open the front door.

“I think a kidnapping is a good excuse for being couple-y,” Allison says and takes Stiles’ hand. Plus, Stiles isn’t a werewolf, so really there’s no reason for her dad to be upset. Mostly.

Turns out they don’t have to open the door as it’s opened for them, and the light is blinding, but then they’re outside.

Her dad is, of course, upset, checking her for injuries as well despite Allison’s protests. Allison gives a short version of the events to him while Stiles does the same, albeit more animatedly, to his own dad, and then they’re told they need to come to the station to give statements.

Stiles takes her hand discreetly in the back of the police car. He gives her a wry, tired smile and it’s his turn to put his head on her shoulder. Allison doesn’t even try to pretend to herself that the swarm of butterflies in her chest is because of the experience she and Stiles had been through, because she knows it really, really isn’t.

And although it isn’t quite how she wanted her night- or nights- to go, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](http://ravenroac.tumblr.com/post/126517237517/just-a-normal-tuesday-night-stiles-x-allison). Thanks for reading!


End file.
